Dark Revenge
by jennytork
Summary: A hunt gone sideways leads to one brother blinded and fighting for his life while the other one races to his side. Will he be in time? And what will happen when he finds that what's behind it all isn't a creature at all? Set in late season six. Based on the Audrey Hepburn movie "Wait Until Dark".


NOW

On any given day, Dean Winchester was very thankful that Bobby Singer's salvage yard was at least an hour outside of Sioux Falls, as the crow flies. Given the givens of the Hunter lifestyle, that isolation was nothing short of a blessing.

But this was no ordinary day, and the long drive from the outskirts of the other side of Sioux Falls to the salvage yard was starting to rankle. The only reason he didn't put up more of a fight was that he was currently seated in the back seat of a police car being driven by sheriff Jody Mills. He wasn't under arrest, but he had no doubt whatsoever that she would do so if he didn't behave himself.

She had the lights and siren on, and was speeding through downtown at twenty miles above the speed limit. It was the fastest way to the salvage yard, and that meant that it was the fastest way to Sam.

But it was still at least another twenty minutes at this speed, and the wait was going to drive Dean insane. He had to get to his brother.

This was no ordinary day, no ordinary circumstance. Sam was in real danger. He was alone at the Salvage Yard, with who knew how many crazies after him.

And Sam was blind.

Dean willed the car to go faster. Please, go faster. He had to get to his brother.

THEN

The hunt had gone sideways almost from the start.

The creature hadn't been killing purposefully, but it had been killing. It was more instinct than intellect, and it carried a load of toxins that seemed to have different effects on different people.

The Winchesters knew that there were a lot of Hunters who would kill to get their hands on those poisons – not all of them for good purposes. So they raced to get there first.

Only they weren't the first. They found the creature dead and its venom sacs crudely cut out.

After a salt and burn – and figuring that the body had been left as a message to someone, but who and why? - the brothers headed back to their motel to clean up. Sam led the way to the door, speculating a mile a minute on what that thing actually was. He put his key into the door and turned the handle.

And the room exploded, lifting Sam's body like it was nothing and throwing him backward ten feet, roughly depositing him onto the hood of the Impala.

Dean screamed his brother's name, stunned and horrified. He hadn't even fully exited the car before the blast.

Despite the hour, people had been milling around and the blast had many witnesses. One of them was a quick dial, and an ambulance arrived less than five minutes after the blast.

In those five minutes, Dean had seen his brother lose consciousness, but not before painful-looking reddened hands had clutched onto his sleeves and four words had choked from bleeding lips.

"Dean...I can't see..."

NOW

After just five minutes shy of forever, Jody turned onto the dirt road that led to the salvage yard. Dean was fidgeting now, ready to jump out of the car at the first safe speed to stop.

Jody turned off the lights and siren and went stealth up the long driveway, enabling Dean to see something that made his blood run cold. He swore.

Jody called over her shoulder, "Know those cars?"

"One of them," Dean replied. "It's a hunter I have unfinished business with."

Jody slowed the car to a stop. "Unfinished business? Dean, you're not going to-"

Dean tried the door – completely forgetting till it was too late that police cars automatically locked down while the engine was turned on. He grunted in frustration and shoved harder at the handle.

"Dean Winchester!" Jody barked. "What are you planning?"

"Jody, no, Sam is in trouble-"

"Promise me you won't kill any human in cold blood!"

He just stared at her for a long moment, before he replied, "I owe him a bullet."

"Why?" she pressed. "What could a human have done that you go all Dirty Harry on him?"

He told her.

Without another word, she unlocked the door.

THEN

The diagnosis was a relief in one respect – the blindness was temporary. At the most, it would last ten days to two weeks.

The cause of the blindness, however, made both brothers run cold. Sam had been exposed to an unidentified toxin with effects similar to snake venom, though not as potent. The bomb had been laced with it, designed to incapacitate without permanently crippling.

Which meant the attack was deliberate and targeted the Winchester brothers. Once Sam had been released to his brother's care, the eye drops and flushing kit bought – with duplicates – and stored in the Impala, Dean hit the road at close to the speed of sound, heading for the one place he knew Sam would be safe from anything supernatural.

Bobby Singer was family, after all.

NOW

Dean slowly circled the truck, eyes narrowing as he took in the details of the vehicle. He'd been correct about the driver's identity, and now he needed to find his brother.

His heart sank as he found Condie's lifeless body. The guard dog wasn't very old, but she had been very loyal.

"Damn," Jody breathed behind him. He turned to acknowledge her, and both their heads snapped up and around at the sound of a soft thunk from inside the house.

Jody jerked her head to the right, and Dean nodded. He went left as she went right, both of them drawing their guns.

There was no telling what they were going to find.

THEN

Looking back on it, the brothers really should have called ahead before arriving on Bobby's doorstep. When they found the house empty except for a very happy to see them Condie, Dean finally called Bobby.

And found out he was on a hunt in Bismarck with Rufus.

"You know where everything is," Bobby told them. "You know how to get the groceries and you can care for that boy better'n anybody. If you need me, you know where I am."

Dean fortified the house and took care of Sam's eyes alone for the next three days. On the fourth day, Sam kicked him out of the house to get fresh groceries.

"I've got the TV, I've got the radio, I've got my phone," he explained. "And you said it yourself, the food's getting slim. I'll be fine for the two hours it'll take. Get outta here."

Reluctantly, Dean had gone. He'd run into Jody in the parking lot of the store and they had struck up a polite conversation – and in the middle of that, Dean's phone rang.

With a grin, Dean put it on speaker and said, "Sammy! How's it goin' over-"

And the sound of a single gunshot wiped the smile from his face.

Sam's voice, breathless and soft, hissed out of the grid, "There's someone here. Condie went nuts, someone cursed and yelled he was bitten, and then he shot her. She wouldn't stop barking, he just shot her again. I hear at least two voices- correction, three. I'm on the move, get here, please. I can't talk, they'll track my voice. Dean – hurry."

The phone went dead.

Jody looked at Dean. "Get in the back of the cruiser. It's as fast as the Impala and I can use the lights and siren to cut our time by at least half."

He hadn't argued.

NOW

Dean would tell anyone who would listen that he didn't know much, and he would never admit that it wasn't true. But what was never in doubt was that he knew his brother. He knew exactly how Sam was going to protect himself. Though Sam hated it, he knew exactly where Sam was most likely to go.

He moved through the darkened house, noting the overturned furniture. His blood boiled. Whoever had done this knew Sam was blind and was making obstacles – the furniture was too precisely placed to be otherwise.

Sam was being targeted by the ones who had blinded him.

Dean saw a foot sticking out from a corner and rounded it with his gun up. He found a body slumped against the wall, blood surrounding it and thickly coating its clothing. He didn't recognise the man, but he recognised the hilt of the knife sticking from the man's jugular vein.

"Atta boy, Sammy," he breathed.

THEN

Sam moved deeper into the house, hearing the three men taking sadistic glee in moving the furniture so the "blind bastard" would hurt himself trying to escape.

He growled softly hearing the epithet, realising these were the bastards who had planted that bomb and blinded him.

"Split up," he heard. "One of us is bound to bring him out of hiding."

Sam stayed put.

A few moments later, he heard one of the voices laughingly taunting, "Sammy-boy! Come out, come out, wherever you are!"

Sam tensed, readying.

The voice came closer. "Yoo, hoo! Sammy-boy! Come out, come ou-"

Sam moved. One of the knives he always carried left its sheath and flew from his hand in one smooth, practiced motion.

He heard the voice cut off in a gurgle and knew the knife had hit its mark. As he bolted from his hiding place, he heard the thump of a body hit the floor behind him.

NOW

Slowly, Dean walked down the stairs, leading with his gun. Sure enough, the door to the Panic Room was closed. Grinning, Dean opened his mouth to call out to his brother inside.

The action was arrested as Dean saw the lock was on the door. If Sam had barricaded himself inside the room, the outside lock would not be engaged.

Dean moved to the door and slid the viewing window open. Sure enough, there was a person inside, curled into a ball rocking on the cot.

But this man had short blond hair.

"Hey!" Dean slammed his gun into the door.

The man startled and looked at him, eyes huge and scared.

"Where's my brother!"

"I don't know!" he sobbed like a child. "I swear, I don't know! He locked me in here and went after-"

"He locked you in?" Dean interrupted.

THEN

Sam ran down the stairs to the Panic Room, making sure to make as much noise as possible. He grabbed the door and palmed the lock, pulling it wide open and crouching out of sight behind it.

Then he panted loudly, whimpering and fretting like he was truly helpless because of his blindness.

Sure enough, he heard footsteps on the stairs. A single man, calling, "Winchester?" Then he heard him pause and laugh. "Okay, I hear you..."

Sam heard the footsteps leave the stairs and move closer. "You're in there, are you? Well, come on, we'll get this over soon." The voice grew closer and closer with every word. Then there was silence and a startled, "What the hell?"

Sam lunged. He threw his entire body weight against the door, swinging it forward. He felt it impact a body and heard a grunt of surprise as the body was forced into the room.

Sam finished the movement by slamming the door shut and using his own body weight to keep it closed as he slapped the lock into place. "There," he addressed the person inside. "You can just sit tight until this is over!"

He ignored the man's yells as he moved silently back up the stairs.

NOW

"So can you let me out?" the man asked. "I won't even ask for the pay he promised us – no amount of money is worth this shit."

Dean spun and raced back up the stairs, startling Jody at the top. "I nearly shot you!" she hissed.

"Perp downstairs in the panic room. Key for the lock is on top of the doorframe," Dean said. "He's unhurt."

"Panic room?" Jody frowned, looking down the stairs. "There's a panic room?"

"Bobby had a slow weekend once."

She sighed, rolling her eyes. "Of course he did. Listen, I heard some noises toward the kitchen and was heading that way-"

"Take care of the idiot downstairs. I've got Sam." Dean changed direction and raced toward the kitchen.

"Be careful," he heard Jody mutter behind him, but his focus was now singular.

He'd heard the sounds she had – a thumping bang.

THEN

Sam's useless eyes narrowed as he realised he'd made a wrong turn. He was trying to head to the living room, hoping he could make it around the moved furniture and out into the junkyard proper. But he had moved into the library instead!

Growling at himself, Sam realised muscle memory had taken over. Where did he always feel most at home at Bobby's? The library!

Sam took precious moments to orient himself. Suddenly he heard a chuckle behind him. "Hold still, bastard. It'll be over soon."

Sam spun and ran, narrowly missing colliding with a wall as a shot rang out behind him. He felt the bullet carve into the wall as he passed.

"Fine!" he heard the voice spit. "I don't need a gun to deal with you! You sure didn't when you killed my brother!"

That brought Sam up short. "I don't know what you're talking about!"

"Oh, that's right – you can't remember the last year, can you? Well, you went on a hunt with your precious grandfather and my brother – and he was killed on that hunt! The witness said that you saw him bleeding out and drove one of your knives into his heart!"

Sam frowned. That sounded vaguely familiar. "Look, he wouldn't have survived his wounds! If I did it, I did it for mercy!"

"Don't give me that!" the man roared, slamming something hard against the wall. Sam heard the clatter of plastic and realised he must have hit one of the phones. "You had no mercy! Your face was blank, like you were putting down a dog!"

"If the shoe fits!" Sam found the refrigerator and started to shove it away from the wall. If nothing else it could be used as a shield.

Just in time, too, as something that sounded suspiciously like a pan hit the appliance. "Shut up! Shut up! He's dead and you're going to join him!"

Sam ducked down and heard the missiles keep hitting the fridge – pans, pots, phones and a few he couldn't recognise by sound. The thumping crashes were punctuated by ranting that seemed to become increasingly deranged.

Then Sam heard the most beautiful sound in the world.

"Hey! Dirtbag!"

NOW

Dean drew closer to the kitchen and saw the refrigerator moved from its place, door open. He saw his target roaming the kitchen, throwing whatever he could get his hands on at the refrigerator, all the while bitching about how Sam was evil, he was insane, he had killed his brother and now it was going to be his turn to die.

He'd heard enough. Gun raised, he stepped into the kitchen. "Hey! Dirtbag!"

The insane man spun to face him. He was breathing hard, his eyes wild. "You!"

"Brother's dead, is he?"

His upper lip curled. "Put down like a dog by your heartless brother!"

"Things were going on that you don't know."

"And I don't care! I'm going to kill him like he killed Roy!"

Dean smirked. "Remember a couple of years ago, back when you shot us dead? I told you I was going to come back and I was going to be pissed." He pulled back the hammer.

Sam's voice came from behind the refrigerator. "Goodbye, Walt."

Dean fired a single shot. Sam's eyes closed as he heard the distinctive sound of a body hitting the floor.

"It's okay, Sammy. It's over."

Slowly, Sam unfolded himself from the small space behind the refrigerator. It never ceased to amaze Dean how someone as large as his brother could compact himself into such a small space.

"Touching you," Dean warned before he reached to guide his brother. The second Sam felt the warmth of Dean's body, he hugged him close. "Are you hurt?" they chorused, then chuckled as Sam stepped back.

"No," Sam said. "Though it wasn't for lack of their trying! You?"

"I'm fine. Sheriff Mills is here."

"Hi, Sam," Jody said from the doorway of the kitchen. "I've got your prisoner with me. I'm taking him downtown and I want you boys to sit tight till I get back, okay?"

Sam frowned a little. "You're coming back?"

"Of course I am," she scoffed. "Someone has to take you boys to get Dean's monster car and I doubt he'll leave you alone for any length of time for at least three months after this!"

That brought a soft laugh from Sam. "Yeah, sounds about right."

"Besides," Jody finished. "Someone has to bury Condie and clean up this place. I am not going to be the one who explains to Bobby what happened to his house!"

Dean watched her lead the blond stranger out of the house, and watched the lights as she drove away. "They're gone," he said. "Are you sure you're okay?"

Sam shook his head slightly. "Shaken up pretty bad, but yeah. I can even see a little bit of movement now."

"That's fantastic!" Dean said. "Come on. I'll guide you and we'll get to work."

"To work?"

"Might as well get a head start before she gets back. Cause I sure ain't gonna be the one to explain about the house, either!"

It felt good to hear Sam laugh from his soul.

END


End file.
